


Pinky Promise

by SydAce



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Bookshop, Comfort, Demon, Fire, Fluff, Gen, Heaven, Hell, Job - Freeform, Long, Mister Fell, angel - Freeform, near-death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-07-27 17:27:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20049814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SydAce/pseuds/SydAce
Summary: You work at Mister Fell's bookshop and meet an interesting character.





	Pinky Promise

Panic was starting to build up. There were too many digits on the bill you were trying to look at. It was shaking too much because of your hands. There was no way you could afford to pay this off with the savings you had. No, you needed to get another job. One that was more stable than the one you had now.

It took hours to fill out the same application over and over again. They all wanted you to put in information that your resume already had. It was infuriating. Then, you didn’t hear anything back. Not even for a single interview. Your parents told you to go to different places and ask if they were hiring. That was a sure way to get blacklisted by their HR departments, but if they weren’t going to contact you in the first place, what could it hurt?

There weren’t any Help Wanted signs in any of the stores you passed by. After getting rejected a few times, you dejectedly walked down the streets. Cars whirled by you causing gusts of wind to trip you up. Sighing, you looked one last time at any of the stores, hoping, praying that one of them was hiring.

Then, you saw it. It was a piece of paper with handwriting. In the fanciest calligraphy you’ve ever seen, were the magical words. Help Wanted.

Quickly, you crossed the street. One car honked at your carelessness. You raised a hand in an apology and safely made it to the other sign. You pushed on the door to the shop. A bell chimed announcing your entrance. Immediately, the smell of old books met your nose. You felt a warmth spread inside of you at the thought of working in a bookshop, where you could read for hours on end.

“Excuse me?” you called out to the seemingly empty bookshop. “Is anyone here?” You dug through your bag and pulled out a folder containing your resume. “I saw the Help Wanted sign out front and I was wanting to apply.”

A blond man wearing spectacles popped out from behind a bookshelf. In his hands was an ancient-looking book. He gently closed it and made his way over to you. He was wearing a blue collared shirt, brown vest, and a bowtie. All of which looked to be several decades old. At least they were newer than the book.

“Hello,” he said. “I’m the owner of this bookshop.”

“You’re Mister Fell?”

A weird sort of smile formed on his face. It was as if he was trying to hide the fact that there was an inside joke hidden in that name. Then, he nodded and stuck out his hand. “Yes, that’s me.”

“It’s nice to meet you. I’m [Y/N],” you said and gripped his hand to shake it.

“So, you are here to apply for the position!” he noted. “Please, come this way!” Mister Fell guided you towards the back of the bookshop. He told you to take a seat on the couch, while he sat in a chair near a desk covered in papers. “Now, I will be having to go on holiday for a while. A bit of a situation has come up, so I need someone to watch over my shop. I will check in from time to time, but for the most part, you’ll be on your own. You won’t have to sell anything, in fact, I prefer you don’t. You can work whatever hours you please, the more inconvenient for the customers, the better. Do anything to make sure the customers do not purchase any of my books!”

“Uh,” you were at a loss for words. This was perhaps the strangest retail sort of position you’ve ever heard of. Basically, have horrible customer service, don’t meet a quota, and do whatever you want. It sounded like Heaven. “I can handle that.”

“Wonderful! Now, many of these books were very difficult to procure, so they must be watched over with the utmost care,” Mister Fell noted. “I do have a very specific filing system for many of these, so if you feel must read them, please put them back exactly where you found them.”

You glanced around. There was no logical filing system you could think of. Still, you nodded your head indicating that you were fully capable of doing it.

“Now, as far as the pay,” Mister Fell paused for a moment. “I can pay you two-thousand pound a week.” You choked. Tears built up in your eyes. You hacked as you tried to clear your airways after swallowing you spit down the wrong pipe. “Oh dear! Are you alright?”

“F-fine!” you gasped. “Two-thousand a week?”

“Yes, is that alright?”

“Mmhmm,” you nodded your head quickly. Suddenly, you straightened up and handed over your resume to him. “This is my experience. My references are on the bottom.”

“Oh, thank you!” Mister Fell looked at you and gave a warm smile. “Though, I was just going to actually hire you. With you being the first one to apply, it must be ineffable that you work here.”

“A-are you serious?” you stammered no believing your ears.

“Yes, my dear.”

A sudden weight had been lifted from your shoulders. This was a freaking miracle. Not only was the job seemingly laid back, but it paid better than anything you could have imagined. A knot formed in your throat, begging for you to cry. But you refused to in front of this stranger.

“Thank you, Mister Fell. You have no idea how much I need this,” you croaked out.

“You’re quite welcome,” he said in a soft voice. “When could you start?”

“Right now, to be honest,” you laughed nervously.

"Perfect!” He stood up and clapped his hands. “I actually must leave tomorrow, so this is a bit of a miracle!”

–

Work did indeed start the next day. It was the only day you actually bothered to show up for an eight-hour shift with the shop open. You wanted to become more acquainted with the books and the customers. Most of the customers simply browsed the books having stumbled in while window shopping. Though, there was one collector that made your stress levels soar sky-high. They were insistent on buying some sort of prophecy book. You were honestly afraid Mister Fell would fire you if you sold it.

"It’s cursed!” you blurted out. “I can’t have you buying that book. I really shouldn’t be telling you this, but everyone that has come to purchase this book has met their most untimely demise! It’s part of the curse of knowing what the future holds! Please, I beg you, don’t buy it!”

The man looked at you with shock. He placed the book down and left the bookshop with a ghostly white complexion. You rushed towards the after him and locked it. You flipped the sign to close and sighed.

The shop was empty and the books were all resting in their places. Not a single one left that shop that day. You had a job to uphold, one that paid well, and you were going to do your best to make sure not a single book of Mister Fell’s sold.

–

“The book is laced with a deadly poison,” you said when a customer was examining a book in a glass case you brought from home. “We’re still testing the other books to make sure it didn’t contaminate the others.” The customer sped out of the shop.

–

“It’s reserved,” you told a customer and put a reserved sign on the book. You had printed off hundreds of reserved signs and started placing them near every single book. You smirked with pure joy at slamming down the signs in front of the customers. They each jumped in shock and left the store with a grumble.

–

There were times, however, when a schoolchild would enter your shop. You felt bad for having to deny them from buying a book. It only happened a couple of times before you brought some old books from home and set up a kid’s section. Those were the only books you would sell to the customers.

–

One day, when you were unusually bored, you started to examine one of the prophecy books. It was old but had a distinct binding. This was fairly interesting. When you opened it, it had a sort of handwriting that you could easily mimic. Then, the idea hatched in your brain.

It took several months, but you were able to create a near-identical duplicate to the original. It took some trial and error, but it worked. You placed the duplicate out in the shop to sell to the unwitting customer. You never did claim it was actually an original copy. In fact, you made it clear that it was the First Duplicate Edition in small writing on the front. That way, you were covered and the shop was covered.

–

Eleven years had passed since your unstable financial situation. Now, you were living fairly comfortably in a flat near the bookshop. The flat was close enough that you could keep an eye on the store from your living room window. You didn’t ever bother leaving and searching for another job. This job gave you a freedom that nothing else could have.

The door to the shop opened and the bell rang. You hurried out to the front to greet the customer into your lair of duplicated books. Then, you froze when you saw who it was.

“Mister Fell!” you called with a warm smile. “It’s been so long!”

He smiled at you, “Hello, [Y/N]! It has been quite a while, hasn’t it?” He looked around at his bookshop and a confused expression formed on his face. “What are all of these books?”

“Oh, uh,” you cleared your throat nervously. “I knew you didn’t want to sell your books, so I duplicated some of them and started selling those.”

There was a bark of laughter behind Aziraphale and a man with red hair and dark shades approached you. “Now that sounds like something my kind would do. Is this your little shop keeper, Angel?”

“Yes, they are. Crowley, this is [Y/N]. [Y/N], this is Crowley…My associate.”

“Oh, hello. It’s nice to meet you.” You reached your hand out towards the taller man.

“Pleasure’s all mine,” he purred and brought your hand up to his lips. A rush of heat poured into your cheeks. You looked away quickly from the man and took a step back.

“Crowley! You’ll scare them!” Mister Fell scolded.

You cleared your throat and looked wards Mister Fell. “Should I put the kettle on?”

“That would be splendid!”

You rushed towards the back and quickly started boiling the water. While it has been a while, you remember Mister Fell had a thing for hot cocoa with plenty of marshmallows. As for Crowley, you hadn’t the foggiest idea. You’d come to that when the water was done.

“What are all of these signs?” You glanced over and saw Mister Fell holding a reserved sign. “Did you sell my books?” The look of fear in his eyes nearly made you laugh.

“No! I put those there so the customers would stop trying to buy them,” you said with a grin. You walked over to another sign you made that read Single and Ready to Mingle. “This goes to the books that are for sale, the duplicates and books I had at home.”

“So,” Crowley appeared out of seemingly nowhere. The corners of his mouth were pulled up into a wide smirk. “Are you single and ready to mingle?”

“Uh,” you froze. How the Hell were you supposed to respond to that? The whistling of the kettle saved you. Quickly you turned your attention away and started to make Mister Fell’s hot cocoa. Crowley chuckled and ignored the glare Mister Fell sent him. “What would you like, Crowley?”

“I’m fine, thank you,” he muttered and flopped himself down onto the couch. His right arm stretched along the back of the couch.

You nodded and handed Mister Fell a mug with white angel wings, something that looked like it came from a novelty store. “Thank you, my dear,” he smiled at you.

“It’s still a bit hot,” you warned him right when he was about to take a sip of the cocoa.

Mister Fell brought the mug away from his lips and gave a shy smile. “Right. Why don’t you sit with us, [Y/N]?”

You glanced at the spaces available. Mister Fell was in the sitting chair. The only spot was next to Crowley on the couch. His arm was draped around the back. With a light blush, you nodded and sat on the edge of the couch.

“How has the shop been since I’ve been away?”

“Fine. We’ve had some shady customers come in that were very insistent on buying the books. They hinted that I’d get hurt if I didn’t sell the books to them,” you started off while looking up at the ceiling. “I ended up selling them some duplicates I created.” You chuckled lightly. “Of course, I made sure to add in some errors in the books.” Crowley snorted in amusement.

“Oh? What were those errors?” Crowley looked at you with a smirk.

“I may have added a prophecy on their untimely death,” you said rather proud of yourself. Crowley burst out laughing causing you to grin. Mister Fell, on the other hand, gave you a look of horror. “What? They threatened me. I should get to have my fun.”

“Yes, well,” he cleared his throat. “After eleven years, I can say I am finally back from holiday,” Mister Fell informed you.

“Oh,” you hummed and looked down at your hands. “Welcome back.”

“Of course, you may still continue working here! I do like how you’ve managed to not sell a single one of my books in my time away. No matter what tactics you may have used.”

The corners of your mouth twitched into a bright smile. “Thank you.” You looked up at Mister Fell. “How was your holiday?”

“Oh, it was fine,” he took a sip of cocoa. “Crowley and I actually helped to raise a child as his Godparents. That’s why the holiday was so long.”

"That sounds nice!”

Crowley snorted. “Turned out to be a waste of time.”

“Anyways,” Mister Fell hurried to change the subject. “We will be here for the next few days. You should take a holiday, yourself. Do the things that you like! I won’t need you back here until Sunday.”

“Oh, are you sure?”

“Of course!”

“Live like tomorrow’s your last day,” Crowley grumbled under his breath.

“Yes,” Mister Fell agreed. Though, there was some sorrow in his face and voice. He ran his finger along the lip of his mug before bringing it up to take a sip. Something was wrong, but you didn’t know what or how to ask. “Enjoy your holiday.”

“Right,” you nodded and stood. “I’ll get going then. You uh…Enjoy your week.” You started to walk off but paused mid-step. You turned around towards Crowley. “It was nice meeting you, Crowley.”

“Likewise.”

With that, you left your bookshop and made it across the street to head into your flat. Once you were in your living room, you happened to glance out your window to see Mister Fell and Crowley leave the shop as well and speed off in an old Bentley.

“How odd,” you murmured.

–

It had been a couple of days. It was, in fact, Saturday. That last day of your holiday. You had spent most of the time working on your duplicates or reading. Those had become your hobbies and what you enjoyed doing the most. Though your hand was cramping and your eyes had grown weary from staring unblinkingly at the books.

You stood and walked over to your window and gazed over the streets of Soho. Your heart stopped. There was a glowing coming from the inside of the bookshop. It was a sort of glowing that flickered erratically. Something that looked like a fire.

The door to your flat slammed open. Air rushed in and out of your lungs as you sped out of the building and towards the shop. Your fingers were already dialing 999 on your cellphone and speaking hurriedly to the emergency operator. The doors to the shop were unlocked and you slammed your way inside. An inferno was ablaze.

“Mister Fell?” you screamed over the roar of the fire. “Mister Fell? Are you here?!” The heat grazed your skin and the smoke clenched around your lungs. Still, you pushed further in, determined to find your employer. “Mister Fell?” You started crying in panic. He wasn’t anywhere to be seen. The books you have protected for so long were all catching aflame. “Mister Fell!”

Your vision was getting blurry. You could hear sirens in the distance, but you couldn’t leave without your employer. Finally, you collapsed onto your knees. Gasping for air, you looked around once more before everything faded to black.

–

For some reason, your lungs both stung and were completely fine. You could remember an intense heat, but at the same time, you weren’t sure if it was real or just some weird dream. You opened your eyes and saw a dull gray ceiling. It wasn’t your own ceiling.

Looking around, you noticed you were on a bed of black silk sheets. Definitely not your bed. You sat up in a state of confusion and looked around for any sort of sign as to where you were.

“There must have been a fire,” you said not sure of yourself. “Otherwise, how did I get here?”

Your legs moved to the side of your bed and you stood. You padded your way out the door and looked around. Then, you saw two people sitting on a couch.

“Mister Fell?” you asked.

Crowley turned to look at you and, with a relieved look, said, “Oh, [Y/N]! I was wondering when you would wake up.” Mister Fell elbowed him in the side with a scowl. “I mean, hello again.”

“Hello, Crowley,” you said in a tone that almost sounded like you were asking a question. “Would you mind telling me where I am?”

“You’re at Crowley’s flat,” Mister Fell spoke. It wasn’t as sing-songy as usual. “He found you unconscious in the bookshop and brought you here to rest.”

“So there was a fire?” you asked with a frown. Tears would have built up in your eyes if they weren’t already so dry.

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry, Mister Fell,” you sniffled. “I should have been there to stop it.”

Mister Fell glanced over to Crowley awkwardly and sighed. He walked over to you and placed a stiff hand on your shoulder. “It’s not your fault. At least you didn’t get hurt. Still, you should rest until I get back. Err…When Crowley gets back, I guess.”

"Right,” you nodded your head. “I still think I’m a bit off.” That or Mister Fell was acting far too strange. You didn’t know Crowley that well, so you couldn’t tell if he was acting off, too.

“You are more than welcome to sit on the couch or lie in bed,” Crowley piped up and glanced at Mister Fell for some sort of reassurance. Mister Fell shrugged his arms.

“I think I’ll go lie down,” you muttered not too sure of yourself.

“Right, well, Crowley will be back by this evening. Hopefully,” Mister Fell added. “He’ll see you then.”

“Okay,” you nodded your head. “Thank you.”

Everything was confusing.

–

The evening had rolled around and you had woken up about an hour prior. You needed to gain your bearings or perhaps you were just bored. You left the bedroom and looked around his place. It was pretty minimalistic. There were a few decorations here and there, but nothing too major. A lot of what he did have was vintage. What, with the Bentley, you guessed Crowley had a thing for the early 1900s.

Eventually, you situated yourself on the white couch. You somehow managed to find a remote to the television and turned it on. The news was playing. Apparently, there were conflicting reports on what had happened yesterday. More things were confusing.

Apparently, some kids made it to the American Tadfield Air Base. There was no clear reason as to how they made it past the security or why they were there. Oddly enough, charges weren’t pressed against them or their parents.

“What happened yesterday?” you muttered, but most of your memories from the day prior was a blur.

The door to the flat opened. You looked over your shoulder and saw Crowley entered. Quickly, you turned off the television and focused your direct attention on him. He glanced over at you and straightened up ever so slightly.

“Nearly forgot you were here,” he grumbled and sauntered his way over to the couch. “Mind if I rest here for a bit before taking you back? It’s been a long day.”

“I don’t mind,” you uttered quietly. He flopped down and leaned his head backward. “Um…I…Thank you for saving me.”

He rolled his head to look over at you. “You’re welcome. Couldn’t just let you burn to death. Though, I suppose there wasn’t actually a fire.”

You blinked. “There wasn’t?”

“Nope,” he popped his P. “Bookshop’s still there.”

“How?” you started and sighed in frustration. “Sounds about right for what I can actually remember from yesterday.”

“What do you mean?”

"I have conflicting memories. Like, I was in a fire, but at the same time, I wasn’t. It doesn’t make sense.”

“A lot of things don’t make sense,” Crowley said. “Let’s just be glad the world didn’t end.”

“Was it supposed to?”

“Not if it wasn’t in the ineffable plan.”

“Right.” You didn’t know what to do with that bit of information. Then again, you didn’t really know what to do with a lot of what Mister Fell said. Crowley must be in the same sort of group. That’d make sense with them being friends. “Are you okay, though? You look tired.”

“I suppose I am,” he sighed. “Do you know what it’s like being kicked out of a place you’re supposed to belong? What’s supposed to be your family? Twice?”

A frown formed on your face. There was a melancholy in his voice. It made your heart clench. “No, I don’t suppose I do,” you whispered. Crowley sighed to himself. “I can’t imagine how awful that would be. I’m sorry, Crowley.”

“It’s not bad the second time. They weren’t great either. Still, makes you wonder where you actually belong.”

That you could understand. “I think that makes you human, Crowley,” you muttered. “We’re all trying to find our place. Sometimes, it hurts. It hurts a lot. I…I didn’t really have a place before I met Mister Fell. I was close to being homeless, actually. But he offered me a job on the spot. And,” you felt yourself getting choked up. “I’m so sorry, Crowley.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Why are you crying?”

You wiped your eyes furiously. “Because it’s sad.”

“For me.”

“I can cry for you!”

“You don’t even know me.”

“You’re friends with Mister Fell!” you protested. “That’s enough to know that you’re a good person.”

“I’m not a goo–,” he started. He must have realized he wasn’t with what he considered his family and couldn’t hide who he was. “Yeah…Maybe.” You turned to fully face Crowley and stuck out your hand. Your pinky was sticking up in the air. Crowley watched with bewilderment. “What are you doing?”

“You’re my family now. You and Mister Fell. I won’t kick you out. It’s a pinky promise. If I break it, you cut my pinky off.”

“Isn’t that a bit much?”

“No. It isn’t.”

With a sigh, Crowley hooked his pinky with your own. “Alright, fine. It’s a pinky promise.”

–

A few months have passed since you’ve made the pinky promise with Crowley. Mister Fell, or as you found out was actually Aziraphale, had kept you working at his shop whenever you pleased for the same pay. It was also a fantastic way for you to become better acquainted with Crowley.

He would always be so kind towards you, at least when he wasn’t being mischievous and cheeky. One day, he threw you over his shoulder and dragged you out of the bookshop. Aziraphale would have stopped him if you weren’t dying from laughter. He placed you in his Bentley and, without a word, took off through the streets of Soho.

“Where are you kidnapping me to?” you asked through a fit of giggles.

“It’s a surprise,” he smirked over at you. You rolled your eyes and turned on some music. Play the Game started to blast through the speakers of the Bentley. Crowley cursed under his breath, but you otherwise ignored his odd behavior while humming along.

It took a good forty minutes of driving until Crowley pulled over. The sun was starting to set over the horizon. Both of you got out of the Bentley and started to trek through some grass. Crowley wouldn’t hint at all as to where he was taking you. He’d only smirk and come up with some ridiculous story, “We’re going to fight the Kraken on land in a pit of fire.”

Finally, he stopped. There was a telescope set up and pointed up at the heavens that were just starting to sparkle in the darkening sky. Light pollution didn’t exist this far out, so each new star shined brilliantly. A gasp of awe escaped your mouth.

“This is amazing, Crowley,” you uttered and kept your head facing up towards the sky.

“I figured you’d like it,” Crowley said while adjusting the telescope. You glanced towards him and your breath hitched. He was wearing a genuine smile. It was one of the only times you’ve seen that on his face. He looked at you with that smile and your heart leaped. “Come and look.”

Slowly, you approached and peered into the telescope. The cosmos was breathtaking. It was as if someone spilled a bowl of sugar into a black bowl and lit it up with magic. Glittering specks were everywhere. There was no possible way you’d ever get to see this in the city.

You pulled away and looked at Crowley. “Thank you for bringing me out here.”

“Of course.” He placed a hand on your shoulder and leaned down to your level before pointing out different constellations and naming them all for you.

–

There were days where Crowley would have you join him and Aziraphale for lunch at the Ritz. It always amazed you how they were able to simply walk in and a table would magically be available for the three of you.

Other days, he’d drag you away from Aziraphale talking about his latest book acquisition to go feed the ducks. Crowley claimed that it was very important that you specifically feed the ducks, otherwise they’d spontaneously sink to the bottom like a lead balloon.

Crowley’s spontaneous visits had gotten to the point where you found yourself coming into the bookshop nearly every day. Though, there was one day where you had come down with something. The light made your eyes hurt. Everything made it seem like your head was just one second closer to imploding. You decided that you couldn’t get out of bed that day.

At about 2:35 in the afternoon, there was a hammering sound on the door to your flat. You tried to ignore it, but the hammering only grew more intense, more desperate. Groaning, you trudged your way through your bedroom and to the door. The blanket around you loosened on your way. Slowly, you opened the door and looked up in shock at seeing Crowley standing there.

“Are you okay? You weren’t at the bookshop,” Crowley was slightly disheveled as if he ran all the way from the bookshop, up multiple flights of stairs, and passed your door, realized he missed your door, and ran back to your door to where he was currently standing, making slightly disheveled an understatement.

“Headache.”

“Oh.”

You stood there in silence for a moment or two before you were finally able to form a coherent thought past all of the pain. “Want to come in?”

"Sure, thank you.” You stepped to the side and shut the door behind Crowley. Crowley instantly took your arm and led you to your bedroom. “Stay here, I’ll get you some water and medicine.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to,” he gave you that smile again. Instantly, just a bit of the pain went away because of that look.

You found that if you didn’t show up to the shop as usual, Crowley would be at your door ready to place nurse again. It made you feel happy, but you still went to the bookshop ready to see him.

The bell rang and you looked over with excitement. Instantly, you scowled seeing it was a certain redhead. It was just another customer that was going to be fooled by a duplicate you created.

“Waiting for Crowley?” Aziraphale appeared next to you and blew over his hot cocoa.

You jumped and stared at him. A blush was forming on your face faster than you cared to admit. “N-no! Why would you say that?”

“I am not completely oblivious, [Y/N],” Aziraphale said with a sparkle in his eye. “I can tell you have feelings for him.”

“Sh-shut up!” You crossed your arms and turned your attention to a book nearby. “Don’t be ridiculous.” The door opened. “Crowley!” you greeted almost right away and instantly regretted it by the sly look Aziraphale gave you.

Crowley gave a small smile, one that always made your heart flutter, especially since they were rare compared to his smirks. “Hello, [Y/N]. You feel alright? You look rather red.”

“I’m fine!” you squeaked and hurriedly walked over to a customer and snatched a book out of their hand before rushing to the back. Aziraphale chuckled at your reaction while Crowley looked at you with confusion.

Taking a deep breath, you placed the book on the desk Aziraphale had moved in for you. It was one that you had yet to make a duplicate of, so you were glad you got it out of the customer’s greedy hands. Still, you wouldn’t be able to focus on studying it. Your thoughts kept on racing back towards Crowley.

“[Y/N]?” You jumped and turned to see Crowley entering the back. He looked concern, though you could never be sure with those damn sunglasses. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Y-yeah,” you nodded. “Thanks for checking.

“You’re a shit liar.”

“Am not!”

“When you lie to me, you are.”

You pursed your lips into a thin line. He was right. Crowley could always read you like an open book. You didn’t know what it was, but he always seemed to know what you wanted.

“Customer’s all left,” Crowley noted before moving to sit on the couch. He patted the space for you to sit next to him, much like the first time you met. Like last time, you hesitated before sitting next to him. “I wanted to talk to you.”

“Oh?”

“You know that pinky promise?” You hummed a yes in response. “I’m not going to hold you to it.”

A sort of dread and shock filled your body. “Why not?!”

“Because there’s something I need to tell you,” Crowley said and refused to look at you. “I’m not going to force you to stay friends with me once you find out, alright?” You opened your mouth to protest, but Crowley cut you off. “Just let me finish.” Silently, you looked at him to continue on. “I’m a demon. A demon from Hell. Well, not from Hell anymore. They kicked me out. So I’ve been kicked out of Heaven and Hell.” Crowley lifted a single hand to his sunglasses and paused. “Just know that I’d never hurt you.” He hesitated for a moment or two before he slid the sunglasses off his face. He turned to look at you with serpent-like yellow eyes.

You inhaled sharply when you saw them. They were gorgeous, unlike anything you’ve ever seen. They also held so much emotion in them it almost overwhelmed you. Fear, hope, anguish, and something more loving were pouring out of him.

“Please say something,” he croaked.

Taking a deep breath, you finally spoke, “I made a pinky promise with you, Crowley.” You grabbed his hand that wasn’t holding his sunglasses and intertwined your fingers with his. “I am not going to break that promise.”

“You’re not scared?”

“No.”

“Why not? Humans are supposed to be scared of demons.”

It was your moment to hesitate. But when you looked into his eyes, you saw the same emotion that you felt for the demon before you. “Because I love you.”

Crowley grabbed you and pulled you towards him. His arms tightened around you as he held you close to him. “Thank you,” he muttered repeatedly. “I don’t think I could handle losing you. I love you so much.”


End file.
